Things To Do To Woo
by x0wynn0x
Summary: She was petrified. She had poked Rachel's right eye with her lips because the smaller girl obviously didn't get the memo that you're supposed to lean up when someone's trying to kiss you.


**A/N: **Created for the Faberryweek day 3: Drunk. I decided, hey, why not just do it!

* * *

She was petrified. She had poked Rachel's right eye with her lips because the smaller girl obviously didn't get the memo that you're supposed to lean up when someone's trying to kiss you.

Maybe it was partially Quinn's fault for not giving Rachel that memo. Maybe she should have said, "Hey, gurl, I'ma kiss you now, so you should probably meet me halfway there." Maybe instead of partially, it was all of Quinn's fault.

* * *

It started – like all horror stories – when Quinn drunkenly confessed to Santana about her not-so-platonic feelings for Rachel. They were sprawled around on Quinn's floor, drinking and crying over long distant relationships. Actually, it was more like Santana crying over long distant relationships, but Quinn could mutely relate. Not like she'd do that creepy thing where she pretends to be in a secret relationship with Rachel, keeping strains of brown hair and writing love notes behind Rachel's back. Quinn's not Jacob Ben Israel. Although, she did write _one_ love letter back in high school that she's not going to tell _anyone_ about.

Anyways, she expected Santana to laugh, tease, and humiliate her…and that's exactly what Santana did.

"No wonder you were so pressed back in high school," Santana had said, smirking. "All this time when you were making fun of her clothing, you actually wanted to get her out of it. So you can fuck her."

Quinn groaned.

"You know, like with your fingers and tongue," Santana continued.

Quinn groaned louder, burying her head in her hands.

"And then maybe spread her out on top of a table and slather chocolate all over that tight Jewish body. Lick the –"

"Ok, shut up right now. I hate you."

That was how she ended up with a list of "Things To Do To Woo Rachel."

Nothing on the list involved chocolate or spreading Rachel out on a table. Maybe afterwards though, like a list after a list when she finally got the girl and _can _do those things. But for now, she was perfectly content with numero uno: Tell Rachel How You Feel Come Saturday.

Saturday came and she crafted a Photoshopped sign that said, "I Love U Rachel, Will U Go Out With Me?" completed with hearts and a cartoon picture of a puppy dog, just because. She was picking Rachel up from the train station so they could spend their bi-weekly weekend together. To lessen her nerves, she finished off a shot of tequila an hour before pickup.

Everything went according to plan; she looked great, felt great, and Rachel's train came on time, and her nerves were completely under control.

Until it wasn't.

Until some jackass with a family of 40 rushed passed her, bumping into her from all sides. Before she knew it, her sign had been knocked out of her hand and sent it flying under everyone's feet. She chased after it, but it ended up getting lost within the sea of people exiting the trains.

She panicked as soon as she heard the familiar sing-song voice of Rachel calling out for her.

"There you are!" Rachel said, blinding Quinn with her smile.

Quinn smiled in returned – weakly because she just lost the greatest sign of her life. "Uh…hi Rach, welcome back to New Haven!"

They hugged. For seconds, minutes, forever and it still wasn't enough for Quinn. She had denied herself this sensation for so long that she just wanted to bask in it. So what if she might have turned her head a little bit to sniff Rachel's hair? She missed the girl, let her have a moment.

"You look amazing," Rachel said once they pulled apart.

And because this seemed like the perfect moment, Quinn leaned down for a kiss. That never happened. Because instead of getting anything remotely normal, she got Rachel's eye. She wasn't surprised when Rachel yelped and jumped back, cupping her face.

"Oh my god, are you alright?" Quinn asked, her entire _everywhere_ flushing with heat.

"Yeah…you just…you poked me in the eye. With your lips."

Quinn stiffened. "I'm…I'm so sorry! I was aiming for your cheek and apparently I'm very bad at aiming. Very, very bad at aiming."

Rachel laughed. "It's alright. At least you didn't harm my nose."

Welp, there went all of Quinn's nerves. She thought of 20 different ways to kill herself as they walked from the train station to the cab. She had settled on asphyxiation with her own shoelaces when Rachel stopped and pulled on her sleeve. She looked down to where Rachel was pointing, and her heart immediately dropped into her stomach.

Rachel picked up the stepped on, crinkled up, ruined homemade sign, and chuckled. "Aww, look at that, I think it says….'I Love You Ra –' Ray? There's like a picture on it too. You should have done something like this for me, Quinn – made a sign that said, 'Welcome to New Haven, Future Broadway Star Extraordinaire.'"

Quinn laughed, but it didn't reach her eyes, her heart, her soul, or anything on her. She continued to laugh even as Rachel tossed the sign into the trashcan, saying something about how it was wrong to litter. She might as well laugh, since some sort of deity up there was probably laughing at her down here.

* * *

After dropping Rachel's things off at her apartment, Quinn took her out to the best café in town, intent on initiating another part of her list: Get Rachel With Great Food.

Except, the café was busy and Rachel had already eaten lunch and Quinn wasn't so sure she could keep her food down. She still had to do _something_ though, because they only had two days together before they were separated for another two weeks. An idea struck her immediately when she heard a barista calling out for people's orders. She could _still_ woo Rachel with food.

So she ordered their drinks, and when the barista asked for the names, she said, "One is for Quinn and the other is Rachel-Willyougooutwithme," all in one quick breath because she was still nervous about the _world_ knowing she was in love with a girl, no matter how much she'd come to terms with it herself. But whatever - if she was going to do this, she was going to do it publicly because she knew Rachel would at least appreciate public display of getting attention/humiliation.

"O…k," the barista said, looking at Quinn oddly before scribbling down the name on the cup.

She smiled to herself and had to physically stopped herself from patting her own back. Rachel noticed her sudden mood change and beamed back at her. They carried on with their conversation – about school, about family, friends, issues of the world, everything they could think of (everything but Finn).

She couldn't believe how easy it was to be with Rachel. It felt as if they'd been doing this for years and not just the last couple of months. She was angry with herself for avoiding all of this when she could have just been honest. That would have saved so many unnecessary tears.

Their smooth flow was disrupted when the barista called out Quinn's name and then Rachel's name. Except it wasn't Rachel's name. It sounded more like, "Rachel William Potty."

Quinn was aghast. Rachel was otherwise, staring at her with a raised eyebrow. "I think…I think they're calling for us?" Rachel said, slowly getting up from her seat.

Quinn cursed at everything and all things under her breath.

* * *

After their disastrous café experience – ok, it was only disastrous during the last part when the barista called out the wrong name and the café became overly crowded and she could no longer hold a conversation with Rachel without wanting to shout "shut up!" at everyone – they decided to go for a walk at one of Quinn's favorite park. Quinn had this all planned out, except she forgot to bring flowers and she hadn't admitted her feelings to Rachel yet. Still, she was going to try and execute: Impress Rachel With a Romantic Walk in The Park.

They did walk, albeit with a little distance between them and Quinn was eying up at the gray clouds.

"I hope it doesn't rain," Rachel whispered. "I had my hair perfectly coiffed for this occasion."

"You're fine," Quinn said, nudging Rachel's arm with her own. "I think you look beautiful."

The words came out before Quinn could stop it. Instead of confusion, she saw delight on Rachel's face. It was probably the most beautiful look she'd ever seen, and she wanted to see more of it. If all it took were a few words to get Rachel _beaming_ at her, then she'd write a century of poems. Even then, words weren't enough to describe how absolutely amazing Rachel is in every facet of life.

Suddenly, she had the brilliant idea to tell Rachel that instead of keeping it all inside her head.

"Rachel…" Quinn said, stopping to stand in front of the smaller girl. She nibbled on her bottom lip, deciding that this was the perfect moment for her to be real. She had spent so much of her life hidden by doors and walls (and closets, of course) and away from _happiness_ that she was just sick of it. She'd lost so much pretending; what else did she have to lose by being real?

Rachel smiled up at her. "Yeah, Quinn?"

She cupped Rachel's cheek. She was sure she wasn't hallucinating when she felt Rachel lean into her palm. That moment was it. "Rachel –"

Her eyes grew wide.

"Rachel! Watch out behind –"

Her words were cut off when a pack of dogs literally ran them over. Rachel toppled over her, and they both ended up on the dirty grass as four sets of tongue started lapping at their faces. Quinn was too busy fighting one off of Rachel to notice a Dalmatian pulling on the bag she had in her hand.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" someone shouted, coming up their way. "They broke away from me and – and I'm so sorry! Down Spikey, down!"

The Dalmatian – Spikey – was too busy tearing through Quinn's bag to give a shit that his owner was giving him orders. Quinn had the mind to toss the bag elsewhere, successfully tricking the dogs with the decoy. She managed to get herself and Rachel up as the dogs mob the bag, ripping through the croissants she had bought from the café. Overhead, the skies roared and Quinn thought this would have been the perfect prelude to some horror movie.

"I'm so sorry," the man repeated, shoving what seemed like dollar bills into Quinn's hands. "Take this, please. It's about 120 bucks – my dog walking money. Please, just take it. I'm so sorry about your food."

"It's alright," Rachel said, running a shaky hand through her (now un-coiffed) hair. "At least they didn't attack my nose."

Quinn grumbled and began pulling Rachel away just as the first drop of rain hit them.

* * *

She sneezed. Rachel sneezed. They both sneezed and finished off a shared cup of Theraflu. "Just in case," Rachel said, "I wouldn't want to spend the rest of the weekend cooped up in your bed because we got sick."

Not like Quinn minded. The bed part. The sick part would have just hindered all possible make-out sessions…when they get together. When Quinn regrew the balls she had grown during the park and just admit her feelings already.

But that was then and this is now, where they used the money the guy had given them to buy cold medicine and food for dinner. Although all her other plans had failed, she still had one more left on her list: Sweep Rachel Off Her Feet With a Home Cook Meal and Mood Music.

Sadly, Quinn started the evening off awkwardly when her iPod shuffled over to Kanye West rapping, _That's My Bitch._ She grew twenty shades deep red because Rachel seemed more amused than scandalized. She kept her head bowed and practically nibbled the skin off her lip when Rachel insisted they listened to the entire _Watch My Throne_ album instead of something a bit more romantic like, say, Maxwell.

She wasn't fairing so well on the home cook meal front either. Her normal specialties were not vegan-friendly, and she cursed herself for not preparing sooner. The cookbook she worked off from gave her instructions that read like it was written by a five-year-old. When Rachel offered to help, Quinn shot her down.

"I'm doing this for _you_," Quinn insisted. "Just…sit down somewhere and do something."

"Alright. Call me when you burn down the kitchen."

Quinn didn't burn down the kitchen. She just overcooked this thing that was supposed to be tofu and now looked like a block of burnt wood. Tasted like it too. She could say her heart broke a million different ways when Rachel grimaced, spat the food out on a napkin, and suggested they order in a half-vegan, half-bacon pizza.

"This isn't exactly going how I wanted," Quinn mumbled, pouring Rachel a glass of wine.

"And exactly how did you wanted this to go?" Rachel asked, grinning.

"I don't know…smoothly? I mean, it feels like I haven't seen you in forever and I wanted to welcome you with the perfect _everything_. That's not what you got though. Instead, you got a half-ass cooked meal and I'm sure that burnt tofu is going to give us diarrhea later."

Rachel laughed, coughing on her wine and shooting some of it out of her mouth.

"See!" Quinn said, laughing along with her. "Now I have you spilling expensive wine all over yourself!"

Rachel wiped at her chin. "Hey, hey, it's alright. This is wonderful, actually. I have to say, it's the best dinner I've had in a long time. At least, it was better than the last dinner I had with Finn."

Quinn sobered up immediately. "You had dinner with Finn?"

Rachel glanced to the floor. "Yeah, he came home from basic training. Didn't I tell you?"

"No."

Two bottles of wine and a glass of vodka tonic later, and Quinn was desperately trying to forget the fact that Rachel had told her Finn wanted to make it work. Again. The only good part to come out from _that_ conversation was that Rachel hadn't jumped back into Finn's arm. She had told him they should probably take it slow and see how everything would work with the long distance.

Just thinking of Rachel going back to Finn made Quinn one-step closer to attacking someone with something sharp. Someone preferably tall, male, and with the head the size of his own egocentric, hero-complex.

Quinn hiccuped, shaking her head of the mental images involving Rachel and Finn. Together. Naked. "I can't believe it. Just…why? Why would you? I mean, _why_?"

"Why? Because I signed a contract stating that my dorm should be free of all arachnids and when that contract was broken, I couldn't possibly stand around and do nothing. Do you know how much exterminations cost? I had to file a complaint to the housing department so they would reimburse me for hiring a –"

"No, no, no." Quinn waved a finger in front of Rachel's face. "Not that, we were…we were talking about Finn. Why?"

Rachel's brows pressed together. "We were talking about him an hour ago. Quinn, maybe…maybe you should stop drinking." Since Rachel was still on herthird glass of wine and Quinn was itching for a third bottle.

Quinn just shook her head some more, nearly toppling over the couch. "I don't believe in that! I don't believe in you and Finn and it's just…it's all so unfair."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why would you go back to him when he's such a…such a stupid head!" Because even in her intoxicated state, Quinn found it hard to cuss. "I mean, have you seen his head? It's about as big as you. He could probably fit you inside his mouth, and that would be considered cannibalism, and I know how you don't like things that eat meat."

Rachel's soft chuckle turned into a full on laugh. "How about we should call it night. I think you've had enough."

She grabbed onto Quinn's arm to pull her up, only Quinn slipped out from her grasp and yanked her back down on the couch. "Quinn, what are you –"

"I love you," Quinn said, tears forming in her eyes. "I love you. I'm in love with you and have been for years. It's so unfair that Finn has you when he's so completely horrible and can't even spell Drizzle to save his life. Why would you want to be with someone who can't spell?"

Rachel stared at her with wide eyes and an even wider, open mouth. She didn't jolt away though, even as Quinn pushed her down on the couch and began to hover over her.

Quinn sniffed. "I wasn't trying to – I was trying to do everything for you today and I failed miserably, but at least I tried, right? At least I tried to be a good person for you but Finn, he doesn't. He's horrible. Jesse's horrible too, and Puck is even more horrible, and every guy you've ever dated and will ever date will be horrible for you. I love you, Rachel."

"Q…Quinn." Rachel placed both hands on Quinn's shoulder, stopping her from descending down and connecting their lips. "I can't tell whether or not you're being a crying-drunk, angry-drunk, or an honest-drunk right now."

"I'm being an I'm-in-love-with-you-drunk."

"Why can't you have been an I'm-in-love-with-you-sober?"

Quinn burst into tears and sat up. She started to move away, but Rachel quickly pulled her back down so her head could rest on Rachel's chest - on Rachel's soft boobies. She felt fingers run through her hair while another rubbed circles on her back.

"Exactly how drunk are you right now?" Rachel whispered into the crown of her head.

"Not enough to where I can forget about what a complete humiliation and ass I'm making of myself right now," Quinn mumbled. She slyly pressed her lips to the skin above Rachel's chest, exposed by the low neckline.

Rachel sighed. "It's ok, Quinn. I appreciated everything you've done. I may have sensed something was amiss – I do have slight psychic abilities after all – when you went semi-romantic on me at the park. Can't say I'm not shocked though, but it's a pleasant shock."

"Really?"

"Really."

Quinn smiled against Rachel's soft boobies. She smiled even wider when Rachel kissed the top of her head.

"I tried to kiss you when you first arrived, you know," she admitted.

"Did you?"

"Yeah, remember when I poked you in the eye?"

Rachel giggled. "Oh, yeah. Good job."

"Hey, at least I didn't get your nose."

"At least you didn't get the nose."


End file.
